


Love's Musketeer, Chapter 2

by Angelise (angelise7)



Series: Love's Musketeer [2]
Category: Les Trois Mousquetaires | The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas, The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Read the series notes!, Romance, Swordfighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-02
Updated: 2003-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-11 08:21:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/795973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelise7/pseuds/Angelise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unexpected and unwelcomed visitor crashes one very hot love scene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love's Musketeer, Chapter 2

An agonizing hiss whistled through Athos' tightly clamped teeth as D'Artagnan brutally gripped his legs. Using the older man's powerfully built thighs as leverage, the young Musketeer braced himself and purposefully leaned back. Blazing white heat exploded all through Athos' groin the instant he felt D'Artagnan's response. The boy's slender body molded itself tightly against his larger frame, his smaller hands trembling where they lay atop his thighs. Athos covered D'Artagnan's hands with his own and pressed them firmly into the corded muscles of his upper legs, his hips surging forward as his mind and body howled with need. 

_I want this boy._

D'Artagnan whipped his head around as if he had heard the unspoken words, his innocent blue eyes captured and held by Athos' gaze, a gaze that was as dark as the blackest night. The subdued glow from the nearby fireplace illuminated the desire burning in the eyes of the elder Musketeer and he watched, spellbound, as Athos removed his gloves and gathered large handfuls of his hair. His thick mane was gently pulled on, forcing D'Artagnan to lean his head back, his words of weak protest evaporating into silence when Athos buried his face in the long tresses. D'Artagnan shivered as he listened to the quiet moans escaping from deep within the man. His virginal body threatened to surrender to the burning hunger as its passionate blaze seared his nerves and ignited needs that threatened to suffocate his very being. 

D'Artagnan felt his cock struggle to escape the secure bindings of his breeches as the surging rush of blood to his groin increased his need for deliverance. His hips strained upward, seeking a release his mind had no answer, no reference for. A hoarse guttural sound was torn from him, his innocence reaching out, pleading for guidance, begging for instruction in the ways of loving. 

Athos raised his head, stunned at the boy's helpless reaction. _Could this one be a chaste virgin, untouched by the hand of a lover? Will he allow me to be his teacher?_ Athos called softly to D'Artagnan, smiling at the wild look on the lad's face. He cradled his head close, tucking it against his shoulder. 

"Young one, I need to know something." He trailed one hand across D'Artagnan's chest, hesitating at the tunic's leather ties. "Do you...." 

"Yes!" D'Artagnan's hot breath scalded the exposed skin of Athos' throat. 

"I will not hurt you, child, but I need to know one thing. Have you ever coupled with a woman or a man?" 

The youth shook his head in embarrassed denial and his body jerked helplessly as the first binding on his tunic was released. 

"D'Artagnan! Look at me." 

The longhaired Musketeer raised his head and focused his sight on the face of his friend and leader. His eyes darkened with a curious hunger as he beheld the lean, handsome features of the man who had bewitched his mind with carnal wants and desires. 

"Do you want me to touch you as a lover would?" 

The youth's gaze never wavered as he softly answered, "Yes." 

Athos loosened another tie and slipped his hands inside D'Artagnan's tunic, stroking the warm skin of his chest. He chuckled when his hand encountered the thick coarse pelt that covered the upper torso. _Such a manly growth of hair on one who has only seen eighteen summers._

"Do you want me to teach you how to pleasure a man?" His fingers discovered D'Artagnan's small nipples and began to rub and pull on them. 

D'Artagnan arched into Athos' firm touch and another ragged moan escaped into the dark silence, signaling his overwhelming surrender. Yielding control of his body, he whispered again, breathless with need, "Yes." 

D'Artagnan gripped Athos' thighs, re-anchoring himself to the larger man, seeking shelter from the fury of emotions that threatened to engulf his innocent heart. Athos' warm, agile fingers began a slow, maddening exploration of his upper body, pulling the heavy tunic open wide. He sucked in a tortuous gasp when one hand wandered away, only to return with wet fingers that stroked their liquid heat across his exposed nipples. His torment continued as Athos' rugged hands fondled the small nubs until they were drawn tight and erect. 

D'Artagnan's moans spilled into the dark shadows, his head thrown back, exposing his throat to the man holding him. Athos grazed the flushed skin with his teeth, biting lightly on the juncture of D'Artagnan's neck and shoulder. His fingers continued their exploration into the boy's thick forest of chest hair, spreading wide to shelter the flat abdomen, dipping inside the indentation of his navel. 

His labored breathing escalated as devastating pleasure besieged D'Artagnan. In silent supplication, he strained against Athos' arms, begging him for a release from the unfamiliar lust and desire. Athos ignored the breathless pleas and trailed a line of moist fire across D'Artagnan's quivering jaw and throat, nearly taxing his overactive senses with the taste, feel and scent of his young lover. His vision was captured by the sight of D'Artagnan's nipples, their peaks rising out of the thicket of curls, begging Athos to suckle them. He watched, mesmerized as the dark flesh tightened with every brush of his fingers across them. As the Musketeer focused his entire being on the one sense, sounds faded into silence. His hands ceased in their exploration, growing still, his breathing faltering as a gray haze began to obscure his sight. 

Unaware of Athos' plight, D'Artagnan protested the loss of his tormentor's touch and reached back with his hands, gripping Athos' neck, pulling him close enough to kiss. He latched onto the Musketeer's lower lip and sucked it hungrily before releasing it and laving it with his tongue. "Mon dieu! Don't stop. Athos, please!" 

D'Artagnan's kiss and helpless supplication snatched Athos' attention and returned him to the moment. Shaking free of the fog that gripped his mind, Athos growled and tightened his grip on the youth, securing him in a protective embrace before biting down hard on his slender neck. His teeth branded what now would belong only to him, claiming the gift of innocence that would never be shared with another. 

_You belong to me, my young warrior._

Athos pulled away the heavy tunic and dropped it on the floor. _You are mine to touch._ His hands caressed the boy's naked chest, tracing muscle and bone. _To taste._ The older man pulled D'Artagnan's head back and licked clean the wound that marked his throat. Hungry for a more intimate touch, Athos stroked his hands over D'Artagnan's lean thighs, delighting in the uncontrollable tremors. His fingers loosened the binding ties and opened the restrictive breeches, allowing the youth's weeping erection to escape. 

_To love._

Athos took a moment to extinguish the candle beside him before lifting the boy's hips and sliding down his breeches. He gently cupped D'Artagnan's large furry sac and squeezed gently. Several drops of pearly white fluid escaped his soon-to-be lover's cock and Athos quickly captured them with his fingers, taking a moment to savor the taste of D'Artagnan's virginal sweetness. 

Athos had just lowered his head and exhaled a warm breath of air over the young man's erection when the inn's door flew suddenly open. With blinding speed, Athos was on his feet, propelling the near-naked youth back into the darkness of the room. 

Sword drawn, Athos spared a glance for the passion-dazed Musketeer. "Clothe yourself, lad. This black night has brought trouble to our door." 

Standing in the entranceway was Rochefort and four of the Cardinal's guards. Utter contempt was written across his features as he glanced around the empty room. The black eye patch contrasted sharply with his rugged lean looks, defining the corrupt and villainous nature of His Eminence's right hand man. His mouth curved in a derisive grin as he watched his men move against the Musketeers, their swords drawn, their points aimed at the hearts of his sworn enemies. 

When his gaze beheld the disheveled appearance of Porthos and Aramis, Rochefort's arrogant smile faltered slightly and he sucked in a betraying groan of lust as his limited sight focused in on the slender perfection of the priestly Musketeer. Aramis stood beside Porthos, his upper torso bare, glistening with sweat. Rochefort damned the hardening of his cock upon seeing the bite marks that defiled the pale flesh of the man's chest. Tightly gripping the hilt of his sword, he stepped closer to he man, bitterly acknowledging the carnal craving his body had for the dark-haired Musketeer. Overwhelmed with the need to inflict pain upon Aramis' arrogant nipples, their peaks proudly erect and swollen, Rochefort wiped the spit from his mouth and thought, _One day my beauty. One day._

His hot gaze encountered Porthos' enraged glare and he laughed as the older man stepped in front of Aramis, shielding his lover with his larger bulk. "And who do we have here? Porthos, you mangy old dog. I see your bitch is in heat. Been sniffing at his tail?" 

Porthos was prepared to lunge forward and defend his lover, his brashness suddenly halted by the sight of blood on Aramis' chest as the sword of the Cardinal's head guard sliced into the tender flesh. His lover remained silent, his jaw clenched against the pain. 

"Damn you, Rochefort. May your cowardly carcass rot in hell for all eternity." 

Rochefort calmly stood before the incensed man, ignoring him completely. With total disregard for his life, he removed a glove and trailed a finger through the blood on Aramis' chest. He smeared some across Porthos' lips, daring him to retaliate. Dipping again into the wetness of the wound, he brought a taste to his own lips. After sucking clean the red stain from his fingers, he cruelly twisted and pulled on the injured nipple. The muffled groan from Aramis excited Rochefort and his cock throbbed in response. He stepped closer, his groin pressing hard against the younger man's hip while the hilt of his sword nudged the Musketeer's semi-limp erection through his breeches. Aramis' eyes widened at the invasive touch and Rochefort could not contain the feral grin that answered Aramis' look of outrage. 

In a voice of pure evil, he whispered to the Musketeer. "Even though I hate you with my entire being, I still want you. Rest assured, those honeyed lips of yours will one day feast upon my manhood." 

Moving away, the captain of the Cardinal's guard turned and directed his next comments to the older man. "I do believe you'll need to find another breast to feed upon my dear, Porthos." Rochefort, again, with deliberate cruelty, squeezed Aramis' small bleeding nub. "I'm sure you can find another bitch to fuck." 

Porthos snarled with maddening fury, his body exploding into action, one blow knocking down the young guard that stood before him. Rochefort sidestepped, avoiding a lethal strike from the Musketeer's sword. The icy threat of his words terminated Porthos' charge of death. 

"Desist! Now! Or else he dies." 

Porthos froze into absolute stillness, his eyes riveted to the blade that lay across his lover's throat. Aramis' gaze pleaded for restraint, their brown depths filled with fear for his beloved. Porthos' dark features hardened with hatred as he surrendered his sword, his large hands tenderly catching his lover as the injured Musketeer was shoved toward him. Ignoring his attackers, Porthos cradled Aramis against his body in a protective embrace. He ripped off a piece of his tunic and held pressure to the bleeding wound, words of comfort soothingly whispered. Aramis turned his face into the warmth of Porthos' neck, his tears of relief staining trails of moisture down his cheeks. 

Eyes blazing, Porthos issued a challenge. "If you ever lay a hand on him again, be prepared to die. For I will cut you into tiny pieces and leave your remains as food for the ravens." 

Rochefort bowed his head mockingly. "I tremble with fear, Monsieur Porthos." He leaned forward and lightly stroked Aramis' hair. "Remember my words, priest. You and I will meet again." 

He dismissed the two men, his guards once again confining them with drawn swords. Putting his glove back on, he turned and searched the room, looking for his most notorious adversary, Athos. 

"Come into the light, you old toothless beast. And where is that sweet little cub of yours? I have a message from the Cardinal for him." 

* * *

End

**Author's Note:**

> Cast of characters: Athos-Jim, D'Artagnan-Blair, Porthos-Simon, Aramis-Rafe, King Louis-OC, Phillipe, King's consort-OC, Cardinal Richelieu-Garett Kincaid, Rochefort-Lee Brackett, Duke of Buckingham-Stephen Ellison, Henri Phillipe-Henri Brown, Lady de Winter-Carolyn Plummer, Rogert-OC 
> 
> 1\. This is set in a GAY universe. Most every character is GAY.  
> 2\. If you're looking for a work of literary excellence with in-depth plots and insightful thoughts from the characters, you're in the wrong place.  
> 3\. Please remember this series was written purely for fun! Romance and sex, with a little sword play thrown in for good measure--that's the way I wrote it.


End file.
